“Come and have dinner at the apartment sometime. I miss you,” Annie suggested, and Ted sighed. He had no time now for anything, unless it involved Pattie.
“At least Katie will be around to help you now, if she’s living at home.” He felt guilty for not calling or seeing Annie more often, but Pattie always had something for him to do and wanted him with her all the time.
“I’d rather she were back in school,” Annie said sadly.
“Me too. I’ll call her. I’ll call you soon, Annie,” he promised, and after she hung up, she got some work done and was hobbling around her office, trying to carry files and plans, which was nearly impossible with the crutches. Managing them was harder than she’d thought it would be, and she was still in pain.
She had just gotten back into her desk chair when the phone rang. Her assistant was buzzing her to say that a Thomas Jefferson was on the phone. Annie was surprised to hear from him, took the call, and asked him immediately how his arm was.
“It’s broken,” he said, sounding discouraged. He had hoped for only a sprain. “How’s your ankle?”
“Just badly sprained. But getting around on crutches is a bitch.” She was exhausted after only an hour in the office, and her ankle was throbbing.
“I know, that happened to me once. Playing basketball at school.” And then he shifted gears. “I enjoyed meeting you yesterday, Annie. I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch sometime. Or maybe we could go to Lourdes,” he said, and she laughed.
“I’d like that. Lunch, not Lourdes, although that might be nice too. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“Me too,” he said easily. She assumed he wasn’t married, but didn’t want to ask. She was sure it was just a friendly lunch between invalids, not a date, so asking if he was married felt stupid. There had been nothing romantic about their initial meeting. And it had been a funny way to meet. “How about tomorrow?” he suggested. “Can you get out on the crutches?”
“I’ll manage. I have to. I can’t let my job sites sit forever without seeing them.”
“You might want to give that a day or two.” He suggested a small French restaurant that she knew and liked, and he proposed they meet at noon the next day. It sounded like fun, if she could get there.
“I’ll cut your meat for you,” she offered, and he laughed. “I’ll carry you to the cab.” It was something to do, and he seemed like he’d be interesting to know. He was intelligent, pleasant, and nice looking.
It was a long day after that, and she had to cancel several meetings. It was too hard to get around, and she sent her assistant to two job sites. Katie called to check on her and was very solicitous. And Annie finally gave up and went home early at four o’clock with two shopping bags full of work. She saw Tom on the news that night, after she took a pain pill and had a nap. And Tom looked back to normal on screen, other than the cast on his arm. His shirt cuff was rolled up, and he couldn’t wear a jacket. But he was in good spirits and looked good on the news.
* * *
Tom was waiting at the table for her when Annie walked into the restaurant the next day. She was getting more proficient with the crutches, but he walked to the door to help her anyway.
“We look like we’ve been in a train wreck together,” he said as he walked her to the table. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch. I enjoyed talking to you the other day.” They sat down, and they both ordered iced tea. She said that if she had wine she’d fall on her crutches, and he said he never drank at lunchtime.
After they ordered lunch, Tom smiled at her and got right to the point. “I never asked you the other night. I assume you’re not married,” he commented hopefully, and she smiled. No one had come to the hospital for either of them, and they had each guessed that the other was single. But he wanted to confirm it.
“No, I’m not. And you?” Annie smiled at him.
“Divorced. I was married for eight years. I’ve been divorced for five. My kind of work isn’t conducive to happy marriages. I was traveling most of the time and away for a long time sometimes. We finally figured out that it wasn’t going to work, and she married someone else. We’re on fairly decent terms. She has two kids now. I never had time for that either, and that was a big deal to her. I don’t blame her. I just didn’t want to have kids when I was never there, and now it’s a little late.” He didn’t seem upset about it. “You’re divorced?” At her age, and with her looks, he presumed she had to be and was surprised when she shook her head.
“I’ve never been married,” she said simply. He was so direct and straightforward that she didn’t feel like a loser when she said it to him. It was just a fact.
“So no kids,” he said. He wanted to get the details out of the way, but she shook her head and then nodded in answer to his question, and he looked confused.
“No, I don’t have kids, and yes, I do. My sister and her husband died sixteen years ago, when their plane crashed. I inherited their three children. They were five, eight, and twelve at the time. They’re grown up now, or they tell me they are. Sometimes I’m not so sure. Liz is twenty-eight and an editor at Vogue, Ted is in law school at NYU, he’s twenty-four, and Kate is an artist, she’s twenty-one and she goes to Pratt. Or she did until this week. She’s just decided to take a semester off, and I’m seriously pissed about it. So that’s my story,” she said, smiling at him, as he looked at her, impressed by what she had just told him.
“No, that’s their story,” he said quietly. “What’s yours?”
“They’re my story,” she said honestly. “Inheriting a ready-made family when you’re fresh out of architecture school is a full-time job. I was twenty-six when they came to live with me. It took me a while to figure out how to do it. But I got the hang of it eventually.”
“And now?” He was suddenly curious about her. He had suspected none of this the other night. But they had exchanged no personal information. They were too busy hurting.
“Just when I got good at it, they grew up. Katie just moved back in, but she’s been living in the dorm for three years. I hate this part. I have to sit back and watch them lead their own lives and do all the crazy stuff that kids do, like drop out of school. I really miss them.”
“I’ll bet you do after all those years taking care of them. Is that why you never married?”
“Probably … I don’t know … I never really had time. I was too busy with them and fulfilling a promise to my sister, that if anything ever happened to them, I’d take the kids. So I did. It’s been wonderful. I never regretted it for a minute. They’ve been an incredible gift in my life.” It had been a fair trade. Her youth for theirs.
“That’s quite a story,” he said with a look of admiration. “It sounds like you wound up with empty nest syndrome without ever having kids of your own. That’s not fair. But I guess it met any need you may have had to have children. Do you still want your own?” He was curious about her. She was full of surprises and seemed content with her life. She wasn’t one of those desperate, unhappy women who felt that they’d missed the boat and were scrambling to fix it. And he liked that about her. She wasn’t looking for a savior or a rescuer. She seemed very whole to him and at peace with herself.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged easily. “I never had time to think about having kids of my own. I was too busy. It would have been nice if my life had worked out that way, but it didn’t. It went in a different direction. I got three great kids anyway.” She smiled at him across the table.
“No serious guys?”
“Not in a long time. I was too busy for that too.” She didn’t apologize for it or even seem to regret it.
“Wow … I feel like I’m having lunch with Mother Teresa,” Tom said, grinning at her. And she was a lot prettier than Mother Teresa.
“No, I’m just a woman with a full plate. Three kids and a career. I don’t know how most women juggle all that and a husband.”
“They don’t. That’s why most marriages end up in the divorce courts. It sounds
like you and I are married to our jobs, and in your case, your sister’s kids too.”
“That about sums it up. And now I have to learn to let go of them. That’s a lot harder than it looks.” And for the first time in sixteen years, her life felt empty as a result.
“So I’m told,” he said, totally intrigued by her. They talked about his work then, and his travels, his time in the Middle East, the architecture they both loved. They talked about art and politics. They never stopped talking until the end of lunch, and they had both had a great time with each other. “I’m beginning to think it was a blessing breaking my arm,” he said with a broad smile as he looked at her. “If I hadn’t, I’d never have met you.” It was a nice way to look at it, and she was flattered. “Do you suppose we could do lunch again sometime?” he asked, looking hopeful, and she nodded.
“I’d like that.” She said it simply, thinking that he’d be an interesting friend to have.
“I’ll call you,” he promised, but she didn’t think much of it. Lots of men had said that to her over the years and never called her. And maybe he had a girlfriend. She hadn’t asked him that. The fact that he wasn’t married didn’t mean he was free. Anything was possible. She wasn’t counting on hearing from him again, although she liked him. But he was a celebrity, and his life could have been fuller or more complicated than he admitted. She knew that about men too. She’d been on lots of first dates in the last twenty years. And never heard from the guys again.
He helped her into a cab after lunch, and she went back to her office. Ted called her and said that he had talked to Kate and she was adamant about not going back to school until next semester. She was determined to work in the tattoo parlor. He was very annoyed at her and had told her so himself. Katie didn’t care. She had made up her mind.
Two days later Liz came home from Paris, and she got nowhere with Kate either. She wanted to spend time with her younger sister, but she was too busy. Three days after Liz got back, she had to go out to L.A. for a story. She was doing a piece on the important jewelry of big stars of days gone by. She had tracked down more than a dozen important pieces and their new owners. And they had moved up the shooting date on her while she was in Paris. She hardly had time to unpack and switch bags. Jean-Louis was coming back to New York the day she left. He had stayed in Paris for a couple of days to see Damien, and he was planning to be back in New York when Lizzie returned from California.
Liz told Annie that they had had a wonderful time together in Paris, and his son was the sweetest little boy. He was no trouble at all. Lizzie was still sorry for Damien that they were sending him away to live with his grandmother, which was easier for his parents, but not necessarily best for him. Lizzie had her doubts about it, but she didn’t feel comfortable being too emphatic about it to Jean-Louis. It was his son after all, not hers. If Damien had been hers, she would never have parted with him, which was why she didn’t want kids yet. She didn’t have time for them, and she was smart enough to know it.
Liz stopped by at the apartment before she flew to L.A., and she felt bad to see Annie struggling on crutches, although Annie was better at it than she’d been in the beginning. But she was tired and still hurting and worried about Kate. Liz promised to try and talk to her sister again after L.A.
Paul helped Katie move out of the dorm that weekend. They brought all her stuff back and put it in her room in Annie’s apartment, and then they went out to meet friends and go to a movie. Paul was around constantly now, which worried Annie too. No matter how nice he was, Annie was still concerned about their seemingly serious relationship and its potential impact on them.
They were all busy and had their own lives. Annie was busy with her projects, Katie was either at work or with Paul, Ted had become a mystery man, rarely in evidence, and Liz was still in California. And on Sunday, Annie decided she needed a break and went to a farmers’ market she liked in Tompkins Square Park in the East Village. There were fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade jams, and canned goods. It was hard to negotiate with her ankle, but she managed with a string bag in each hand as she held her crutches. She was talking to a Mennonite woman in a lace cap about her homemade preserves, when Annie looked up and found herself face-to-face with Ted on the other side of the same stand.
She was startled to see him there. He was with a woman and two children. She was carrying a big basket and filling it with homemade things, and the children were clinging to him as though he were their father. This was no casual acquaintance, Annie realized as she watched them. This was a woman he was deeply involved with, and she was visibly many years older than Ted. In harsh daylight, she looked even older than her thirty-six years.
And as Annie looked straight at him from a few feet away, and their eyes met, Ted looked as though he would burst into tears. There was no escape. He had to introduce them. He introduced Pattie to his aunt, and both her children, and Annie was even more shocked to realize that the woman he was obviously seeing was only a few years younger than she was. And Annie was in better shape and looked younger.
Annie greeted Pattie politely and was nice to the children, and she said very little to Ted. It was obvious that this was the secret he’d been keeping, and he didn’t look proud of it. He looked terrified of Annie’s reaction. She smiled gently at him and kissed him before she walked away, on her crutches, with her string bags. All she said to Ted as she kissed him goodbye was “Call me this week.” He knew exactly what that meant. She wanted an explanation of what he was up to. She wasn’t going to let this slip by in silence. He had known that she wouldn’t.
And as he turned back to Pattie after Annie left, Pattie stared at him unhappily. He looked sick.
“You look terrified. She can’t do anything to you, Ted. You’re not a kid.” She looked uncomfortable. Annie’s shock and disapproval had been apparent, no matter how pleasant she had seemed.
“I am a kid to her,” he said, looking nervous.
“You don’t owe her any explanations. She’s not your mother, and even if she were, you’re a grown man. All you have to do is tell her that we’re in love with each other, and this is the choice you’ve made.” Pattie was pushing again. He hadn’t made that choice. He had fallen into it, like a soft featherbed he enjoyed being in. But he had no idea how long he wanted to be there or what it meant. Pattie was making assumptions that were comfortable for her, but Ted wasn’t sure of anything yet except that he liked being with her. And in his own eyes, not just Annie’s, he was still a kid. He felt like one. And he didn’t want Pattie dictating to him any more than he wanted Annie to.
All he could say to Annie honestly was that he was involved with Pattie and had been since just after Thanksgiving. He didn’t know anything more than that. He wasn’t sure if that would frighten her or reassure her. But he wasn’t ready to tell her that this was a choice he had made, as Pattie wanted him to. Pattie had made that choice. He hadn’t yet. He was just having a good time.
He was very quiet on the walk back to Pattie’s apartment with the full basket of fruits and vegetables they’d bought. He set it down in the kitchen for her, and she didn’t like the way he looked. He had been silent and upset ever since they ran into his aunt.
“What if she doesn’t approve, Ted?” she asked him bluntly. They both knew she was asking about Annie. “What if she tells you to give me up?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t do that. She’s a reasonable woman and she loves me. But I don’t know if she’ll understand. Twenty-four and thirty-six is hard to explain.” He was realistic about it. His roommates had met her and thought he was crazy. It was a complicated situation for him to be in, with two kids, no matter how great the sex was.
“It’s not hard to explain at all,” Pattie corrected him. “We love each other. That’s the only explanation anyone needs, including your aunt.”
“Maybe I need more of an explanation than that,” Ted suddenly said, more harshly than he meant to. But he hated it when she pushed him. “I need to know why
this would work, and it’s a good idea. I still have to finish law school, and you have two kids. We’re at different stages in our lives. Sometimes it’s hard to bridge that.” He tried to be honest with her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She had her own version of the story, which was different from his. To her, this was true love. To Ted, it was great sex, and he didn’t know how much more it was than that.
She looked panicked. “This isn’t hard to bridge,” she insisted.
“You’re older than I am,” he said bluntly. “Maybe you can handle it better than I can. To be honest with you, sometimes it scares me.” He was always honest with her, whether she liked it or not. And she never wanted to hear his side.
“What are you scared of?” she asked plaintively.
“That we’ve backed ourselves into a corner that we’ll never be able to get out of, if we want to.”
“Is that what you want?” Pattie asked him with a suddenly evil look. She was whispering so the kids wouldn’t hear her. But they had turned on the TV, and they were in the other room. “Is that what you’re saying to me,” she said, with a malicious glint in her eyes, “you want out, Ted? Let me explain something to you. I waited a whole lifetime for a man like you, and I’m not going to let you cheat me of what we have. If you ever leave me, I’m going to kill myself. Do you understand that? I’d rather die than live without you. And if I die, it will be because of you.” Hearing her say that cut through him like a knife, and he closed his eyes and turned away as though to erase from his mind that she’d ever said it.
“Pattie, don’t … ,” he said hoarsely.
“I will, and you’d better know it.” It was more of a threat than a plea for him not to leave her. It was a promise to destroy his life, her own, and her children’s if he ever left her. They had been together for six weeks, and Pattie had him in a death grip. And worse yet, the life she was threatening was her own. And if she meant anything to him at all, he had to respect it. He couldn’t just sleep with her night after night and day after day, and have sex with her, and leave her. Who knew if she really would kill herself? But he didn’t want to take the chance. Ted was shaking when she walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room to her kids. Her message to him had been delivered and was even more powerful than his respect for his aunt. Pattie had won this round. Again.
Family Ties Page 14
